


An Understanding

by teacupdrop



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-17 16:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4674083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupdrop/pseuds/teacupdrop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Minister of Lothal thinks the Inquisitor as nothing more than a glorified mercenary. The Inquisitor thinks the Minister as another bumbling politician who can't get the job done. Yet, they're still drawn to each other, finding themselves in an increasingly perplexing arrangement... (Inquisitua fic)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter may be a little awkward at times because I wrote most of it during transit on my phone. Even after a month of editing it doesn't sound quite right, but I need to start this fic somehow. Hopefully future chapters are little more coherent! This fic tries to "fill in the gaps" in the TV show since we never see the Inquisitor and Tua interact directly on-screen but it's implied they have at some point. I may also sprinkle in some of my own headcanons about Star Wars lore here and there. Please enjoy!

Maketh, a hot cup of caf in hand, looked out of her office window. The sun was about to rise, a sliver of the sun painting yesterday's night sky a creamy orange. Clouds were gathered around the horizon in plump clusters, allowing the two moons and stars to hide behind them for a few more minutes.

The view was certainly beautiful; nearly beautiful enough for Maketh to forget she had a mountain of work waiting on the desk behind her. Wonderful.

Ever since she was made Minister of Lothal, Maketh wondered why Imperial Command sent her to her homeworld. Maketh had studied hard in the Academy to get out of this backwater planet, not to gain a position that meant little in the grand scheme of the Empire. And if it weren't for those rebels, she would have had very little trouble running the typical day-to-day drudgery that accompanied her administrative title.

What had she done wrong? Her Level Fives were perfect, and she received accolades from all her instructors. She even raised work efficiency up to thirteen-percent during her internship in Coruscant! Everyone, including herself, thought she had a place in the Core Worlds.

But here she was, back to the goldenrod fields, meant to do nothing more than facilitate the production of weapons like some lower-class laborer. In many ways, she had made peace with it. The Emperor himself enacted the planting of Imperial factories on Lothal, and who would question his Imperial Majesty? Besides, this was an opportunity to give back to her home. By bringing law and order to this poverty-ridden lothrat-infested dirtball that was still somehow squandered by bumbling farmers who didn't know its true potential.

Maketh realized the murky mauve sky was beginning to turn a gentle blue, the stars only a freckle in the west. Slices of light reflected off the round domes of Capital City's principal buildings that surrounded Imperial Headquarters. She snapped back into attention, walking back to her chair to get to work.

Her first order of the morning was meeting a certain Pau'an. It was most disturbing, Maketh thought, that the Inquisitor's full dossier in the system was restricted to all but the most powerful in the Empire— which excluded her of course. All that was available in his profile was that he specialized in catching Jedi, and was part of a legion of Force users sanctioned by the Emperor. So, basically nothing besides what she could already deduce from his title alone.

In fact, the profile didn't even include a name. He was simply 'the Inquisitor' as if he were born from the shadows for the sole purpose of hunting down the mythic sentients of the Old Republic and not born on Utapau with a name given to him by his parents like any other being. Something about the whole thing gave Maketh chilled caution. The Inquisitor came with Agent Kallus's compliments, but Maketh considered that to be an ominous sign more than something congratulatory. She knew of Kallus's work in Lasan, and if the Inquisitor had anything to do with that tedious Base Delta Zero business, he was probably another simple brute who did all the dirty work for the Empire. But again, his barren profile told her nothing.

Secrets were always suspicious, and considering her circumstances, Maketh couldn't help but let her mind run with paranoia. The insurgents were known to visit Lothal only periodically, so calling this planet their base of operations was a broad assumption. The sole draw for the Empire here were its raw resources, something the alien visitor would have nothing to do with. So what was a high and mighty Inquisitor doing here in Lothal?

Perhaps he was unstable, sent far from the Core Worlds to deal damage in a place that was as disposable as its inhabitants. Perhaps catching the so-called Jedi ringleader of the rebellion was a cover for a plan far more insidious.

Perhaps he was sent to replace her, as drastic as that sounded… But then again, if the supposed Jedi and his child padawan were all it took to defeat him and escape the Spire of all places, perhaps the reputation of Inquisitors was exaggerated. Although, if Kallus was also having difficulty catching the troublesome troupe, it could just have been that they were both—dare she say— incompetent.

If only Governor Pryce were here. Maketh had double the work load trying to handle having both an ISB Agent and Inquisitor on the planet. The Governor was probably drinking Alderaanian wine with a five star Nerf steak somewhere closer to the Imperial Core.

Maketh couldn't think of it further as her honored guest entered the office right then. She put away her datapads the moment she heard the sliding of the door.

"Minister Tua," was the Inquisitor's simple greeting, his hands behind him as he walked towards her desk. A typical power stance, the Minister noted. Not like his broad silhouette needed help to appear large and menacing; his bone-like complexion and bloody tattoos gave Maketh a start. She took a hurried gulp of caf to swallow the lump in her throat. He was far more intimidating in real life than any hologram could suggest... and did the temperature drop?

"Ah, Inquisitor, I didn't expect you so early! Please, take a seat."

The Jedi hunter glanced at the chair in front of him before he dismissed it by looking straight back at her, his bright yellow eyes fixed on hers."My business will be short. All I require is your cooperation and resources, and I shall be on my way."

A ray of sunshine, he was not. With a forced smile, Maketh defaulted to her catch-all government worker repertoire. "Of course. What can I do for you?" Maketh was suddenly grateful for the semi-circular desk that separated the alien from her. There were rumors that Inquisitors were as brutal as their master, and she could believe them now. Despite being slightly intimidated, the haughty half of her couldn't believe he could be so rude to a minister.

Paying no heed to her unease, the Inquisitor enunciated his every syllable like a proctor in a diction test. "I require planetary authorization codes so my investigation can be conducted unhampered."

"Ah ye–" Maketh cut herself short. Planetary authorization codes? The codes only she, a minister, had access to? The alien's presumptuousness was only exceeded by the length of his forehead! Folding her hands on top of her desk, she shot him a skeptical look, her annoyance far outweighing any apprehension she had. She was not another of one of his military lackeys!

"… Might I inquire as to why? You understand, I can't part with these codes so easily, even to your authority."

An expression that could only be described as thinly veiled annoyance covered the face of the Inquisitor. "Might _I_ remind you that I was personally dispatched by order of Darth Vader? He has a reputation for being… impatient. I am merely expediting matters along, Minister." His shining eyes, so eerily unblinking, bore into Maketh, and she nearly looked away. But this was yet again another display of dominance, and she would not back down in her own office!

Maketh knew that if the Inquisitor used her own codes, her name would be attached to the data trail he would leave in his wake. Damage reports, witnesses, logistical receipts… If he really was incompetent, she was not about to be held responsible for his inevitable mistakes, thank you very much! With a firm but charitable tone, she replied, "Very well. I'll make a request to ISB for new codes to be issued to you. After all, you should be rewarded personally! It would not do to give you my codes and allow myself to get all the credit for your work, would it?"

A brief pause lapsed, but a smirk broke the Inquisitor's stony visage, surprising Maketh. “I am touched, Minister. You make a fine politician, caring so much for those around you." His thin, long arms finally emerged from his back as he made open gestures towards her, just as Maketh wondered if they were glued to his body. "I can see why the Empire thought you fit to go back home. This planet needs all the charity it can get."

His voice was so overbearingly smooth that Maketh almost reeled, barely suppressing a flare of irritation. What was he insinuating? That she deserved this "punishment"? The nerve! This was exactly why she loathed the restriction on Inquisitor profiles— he had all the figurative ammo in his belt from her profile, while poor overworked Maketh had to make do with half-arsed summaries with less detail than a junior holonovel.

But now she had a perfectly good reason to probe him. She had been in Coruscant long enough to know the political tug-of-war, and the Inquisitor was just a soldier. She, of all people, would win this game.

"You flatter me. Just a reminder, it'll take a few standard days to process the request. Although…" Placing her hand on her chin, she looked away as if lost in thought.

“Speak your mind," was his encouragement.

 _Got you now._ "I doubt anyone in the ISB has high enough clearance for your profile, so perhaps we could speed things along?"

The Inquisitor's smug smile immediately dropped. "I don't catch your meaning."

With a plastic, cheerful smile, Maketh spoke on as she swatted the air. "Oh, you know, they may need a few measly details, just enough to fill out the basic application. As you said, Darth Vader is an impatient man. No harm done. We are under a blockade after all, ISB can get quite touchy about protocol!” Grabbing a nearby datapad, she brought up a blank document in front of her and tapped away. “How about we start with a name?"

"My… my name-" The Inquisitor's puzzled look broke into offended shock. His eyes narrowing at Maketh, she had the sickening feeling he was trying to read her.

"Why yes," said the Minister, with a nervous roll of the eyes, "I can't just call you solely 'the Inquisitor' when there are others!"

"And what would you do with such a thing? Call me by name? It would be no more appropriate than for me to call you _Maketh_."

His sudden call of her name made her flinch, but she went on. "I am simply suggesting this because-"

"Minister," intoned the Inquisitor icily, "Perhaps I have given you the wrong impression, but let me blunt: I did not come here for your power plays and tea parties. If I seem overbearingly domineering, and if that threatens you, then good." 

He continued with a dark growl, crossing his arms. Maketh suddenly noticed his incredibly sharp teeth. "You may not be military personnel, but I outrank everyone. My mission is to catch a potentially dangerous and completely criminal character who may be a Jedi, and as your superior, that is to be the top priority of this planet. That is all." 

Oh no. She pushed her luck too far, and Maketh could feel the hair on her neck bristle with terror. Quickly dropping the datapad as if it were hot coal, she did not dare look at the Pau'an.

"R-right, of course, I meant nothing by it! Forget I said anything at all…!"

When was she the type to throw caution to the wind? Although she was staring at his boots, the cold professionalism dripping in his every word was obvious. 

"You are a Minister, and I am an Inquisitor. That is all we need to know to carry out our duties. Is that clear?"

"Yes, clear as day…!"

"Look at me."

Now it was her turn to be shocked. " _What?_ "

"Do you not understand Basic, Minister?"

Very slowly, she could only manage to lift her head to peer at his dreadful bloody claw-like markings on his face.

"I can sense your fear."

"I-"

"And you should consider it motivation." A smug smirk replaced his frown. "I am confident as long as you do your job— and I, mine— this threat will be disposed of before it reaches anything…” He looked briefly out the window behind her before returning his gaze on her. “… Of importance."

Stupid, stupid Maketh. To think she'd try to pry information off a master of mind tricks and ancient sorcery… Living in Lothal made her forget that the efficient machine known as the Empire was slow to forgive even the most minor of mistakes. And this was a potentially lethal misstep.

But wait. What he said finally processed in Maketh’s mind, and her eyes widened. The Inquisitor was not sent to protect the interests of the planet; he was merely sent for containment, as if the Jedi were hazardous material. He was a specialist, not an administrator.

Meek from his rebuke but brave from her own ire, she spoke softly. "… Are you-are you saying Lothal is of no importance?"

He looked nearly bored. "Do you think otherwise? Lothal only serves as a stepping stone for the greater Outer Rim. It’s why the Jedi must be stopped here before they spread to other systems like the pests they are."

That was it. She had thought likewise, that Lothal was inconsequential, and she was sure the rest of Command thought so too. But to hear the thought voiced aloud made her irrationally angry. Who was he to judge the planet after only spending mere days on the surface? Who was he to disregard everything she did despite her distaste for the Outer Rim? Lothal was her life’s work! Fear dissipated into indignation and Maketh's heart pounded with adrenaline, something the Inquisitor evidently picked up for he took a preemptive half-step backwards.

She defiantly glowered at the Inquisitor, her hand curled into a fist on the table."How dare you! I can understand criticism against bureaucracy and politics, but I won't stand to let an-an alien slander my homeplanet!"

It was a foolish move, one that the Minister would probably regret, but she didn’t care. To her surprise, the Inquisitor didn’t look… violent. Instead, he looked nearly amused.

“… _Alien_? Is that what this is about? Do you find me offensive, Minister?”

"Offensive?!” With an incredulous look, Maketh pointed an accusatory finger at him. “ _You_ were sick enough to join the Emperor's force of attack dogs just to go around the galaxy killing Jedi!"

Devoid of humor, he demurred, "Being an Inquisitor is not a voluntary service."

“Do you think that I wanted to be a minister on this forceforsaken-"

"Allow me to clarify,” he cut in, “You either join the ranks or you die. This career is my life, as much as your position and this planet are."

Faltering for a second, Maketh knew he was attempting to diffuse her but she was slighted. She would not allow the Inquisitor to pass it over with his smooth talking. “Inquisitor,” said she, bitingly, “You may outrank me, and everyone else, yes, but I am the one responsible for the planet and its people. I know what’s best for Lothal, so don't tell me how to do my job!”

Any amusement in him was quickly extinguished, and for a moment Maketh thought he’d reach right over the table with his awfully long arms and strangle her. A heavy silence lingered for a few seconds more than what the Minister considered comfortable, and now she was reconsidering her outburst. It was all fun and games until there were the rumored "mysterious accidents" that accompanied the agents of Vader, after all.

The Inquisitor finally spoke, with a clipped tone. “… There is no need for us to argue about this. I can be patient. Request the codes since I’m sure ISB will find a way to fulfill an order from the _Minister_ herself. If that’s everything, I’ll take my leave.” Without another word, he turned and left, taking the shadows and cold with him.

… Was that it? Was there really no catch for openly defying an Inquisitor of the Emperor? She apparently lived to see another day, but Maketh only thought it anticlimactic. 

She may have made no progress on shedding any light on the enigma called the Inquisitor, but neither had he made any progress curbing her authority. They were at a standstill, and that was enough. The Minister took that as a victory, all things considered. 

Her caf was cold now, but she downed the last of it anyway for her dry throat. What a way to start the morning. Her job was about to get more interesting, but the Minister didn't know if that was for the better.

 

* * *

 

The Inquisitor entered Agent Kallus's office, a room that looked nearly identical to the Minister's. The Agent was waiting for the Inquisitor, his casual posture on his chair telling. Setting aside a datapad, the Agent gave him his full attention. "You look tired, Inquisitor. Any luck?"

The alien ignored the remark. "She is not as weak-willed as you described. It will take more than riling words for the reins of this planet to be handed to us."

Kallus leaned forward, his face perched atop his folded hands. "It was worth a shot. I assumed the Governor's absence left us an opening. We'll wait until another opportunity comes. Do try to get on her good side until then."

"Don't take this as anything more than an exchange, Agent," spat the Inquisitor. "My help for yours. I couldn't care less for local squabbling."

The Agent smirked, nodding in agreement. "I expected nothing less. But you are a rare asset, one completely uninvolved with local affairs. How could I let this pass?"

"I am not a pawn for another one your games." While untold threats shadowed the Inquisitor's words, his tone softened, reluctantly admitting his reality. "But I am a servant, as are you. Try not to abuse my service."

"Of course. But for the benefit of the Empire, Lothal must fall into military hands. The Minister must trust us for that to happen. It should even make your own work easier."

The Pau'an was unconvinced. "So my next objective is to _familiarize_ myself with Minister Tua?"

"If you can't make her fear you, that is the next best option, yes. Surely even an Inquisitor knows the benefits of allies?"

"I prefer to work alone. Even this is too much entanglement."

Kallus merely scoffed. "You're sounding more like the Jedi you hunt! I'm not asking you to take her to dinner, Inquisitor, just that you make her resources readily available."

Although the Inquisitor nodded, he gave the Agent a hard look before leaving. Catching Jedi was one thing, but befriending a thoroughly irritating government worker was another. If only all things were easily resolved by a lightsaber...


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy schedule slip, Batman! I really meant to upload this earlier, but I was writing it alongside chapters 3 and 4. Not like it matters since the tone is quite... different here. This is set immediately after the Inquisitor interrogates Zare Leonis in "Rebel in the Ranks". Enjoy!

The Inquisitor curtly walked away from the interrogation room. The officers lining the hallway all stood at attention as he strode past; they could only relax when the turbolift doors finally enclosed the dark agent out of sight. The Inquisitor had just spoken with today's hero of the Academy, the one who singlehandedly pursued the rogue cadets. There was no rush to go back to his Star Destroyer now when he knew where his next potential recruit was located. If Zare Leonis was as talented as his sister, taking him to his master would be almost enough to make up for his failure in capturing the Padawan who could apparently just walk in and out of Headquarters without consequence.

Questioning everyone who was near this "Dev Morgan" was actually the Inquisitor's own initiative; he didn't trust ISB to be thorough since anyone could unknowingly be under the influence of the Force. Dev Morgan was barely a Padawan, but one could never underestimate the failings of the weak-willed.

Speaking of those he couldn't underestimate, there was one person he had yet to interrogate. He ran the scenario in his mind. He would approach the Minister delicately, asking her only the most necessary questions, thank her for her time, and leave. Or, more likely, she would demand him to answer for the Padawan's second escape (or third, counting Agent Kallus's first sighting) and then take several cycles trying to have the last word in another verbal duel.

What an exhausting human. He could think of no other bureaucrat as invested in wasting his time as her. He had spent the past few weeks avoiding Minister Tua by limiting their interaction and communicating with her using the Agent as a proxy. The Inquisitor's actions seemed counterintuitive to his new '"mission" but to remain aloof was better than to sour what little goodwill they had in the first place.

There was no real reason she could have seen Dev Morgan, but the sheer destruction the miscreant wrought made the Inquisitor wonder the scale of the insurgent's operation. To snatch a decoder right off Agent Kallus's desk would not have been an easy endeavor, after all. The Minister might have been involved without knowing it herself. It was also likely the Minister could have seen the boy passing through the halls or something equally trivial, and such information could be used to reconstruct a timeline of the boy's actions.

Whatever she knew, though, was probably not worth the effort when he had other things to attend to. He thought on as the elevator brought him to the lower training platform, the scene of the attack. It was a grisly, embarrassing scene. Bits of the sabotaged AT-DP walker were still scattered about the wide field and numerous droids were clearing the debris. He looked up at the upper level deck, and the Inquisitor could see Agent Kallus conversing with the Commandant and Taskmaster. The Agent must have seen him enter for he glanced at the alien, but Kallus didn't address him, choosing instead to gesture towards something with a jerk of his curiously bearded head. The Pau'an followed the direction only to see a flash of blue and yellow among the wreckage… _Minister Tua_? What was she doing here?

She seemed busy barking orders at a gray-clad worker but before the Inquisitor could collect himself, she turned and her eyes widened at the sight of him.

"Inquisitor?!"

The alien immediately stiffened his posture as he approached Maketh. When he was within earshot, he addressed her as if he hadn't noticed her surprise. "Minister."

She, in turn, crossed her arms, an unimpressed frown directed at the Jedi hunter. "I've already sent an incident report to Agent Kallus. You'll find all the details you'll need in it. Now if you'll excuse me, I must attend to _matters of import_."

Though she tried to turn around, the Inquisitor stopped her by placing a hard hand on her shoulder. If she was so determined to waste his time, so would he. And Force willing, perhaps she actually knew something of value. "Actually, the report will not suffice. I have my own methods, and they must be followed for a proper investigation."

"Inquisitor, I am a busy woman, so please-"

His grip was firm. "It will only be a few moments."

Rolling her eyes, she dismissed the worker who was more than eager to leave the presence of the terrible figure in front of them. Maketh faced the pale disturber with a huff as she shrugged away his hand, and his lips edged up into a smirk. The dynamic was different now, and they both knew it. He was no longer a newcomer in a foreign planet; he was investigating his objective, the Padawan, and that was squarely under his jurisdiction. The Minister, especially one from such an obscure planet, was also no doubt ignorant of the Force. It wouldn't be difficult sifting through her thoughts.

"When was the last time you saw Dev Morgan?"

"Oh, I don't know. Cadets went in and out of the complex, and I had little interest in the errands they ran."

"Had you ever spoken with the boy?"

Her voice spiked with irritation. "You would know that if you just read the report, but no."

"So you didn't keep track of the younglings who had full access to your office?"

She gritted her teeth while the Inquisitor simply smiled haughtily at her. The Inquisitor didn't have to read her mind to know there was nothing in her files worthy of much security anyway.

"No. I trusted the cadets of Lothal to be honest. And anything noteworthy would have been encrypted and inaccessible anyway."

"You didn't think anyone would attempt to access classified information illegally?"

She narrowed the funny little hair lines atop her eyes. "And commit treason? Inquisitor, these cadets are young-"

"And two young cadets betrayed the Empire today."

"One of whom who was not a real cadet! The other boy may have been seduced by Dev Morgan's tricks!"

"Even more reason the Academy should have been more careful with their security. And what do you know of the Jedi, of the Force, Minister?" He stared her down with marked disapproval. Although Maketh was well above average height for a human female, the Inquisitor still towered over her and her ludicrous hat. "Mythology should not be conflated with truth. What makes you think that Jai Kell was… tricked?"

The questions surprised her, and she hesitated before bouncing right back. "I-I may not know the specifics, but Jai Kell didn't fit the profile of a rebel. It's obvious that Dev Morgan tricked him. Just because Kell is well, um, gifted, doesn’t necessarily mean he's dissentient. It just doesn't make sense for him to betray his pupils!"

The Inquisitor took a brief moment to study her emotional core. Her confusion was genuine, nearly childlike in its naivety, which meant she was truly ignorant. Perhaps it was understandable, even preferable, that the ways of the Old Republic were forgotten, but it was a wonder how such lay creatures could serve the Empire.

A gloved hand covered his chin as he feigned deep thought. "Matters regarding the Jedi are rarely clear, but that is not something you have to concern yourself with. This is a matter for ISB and the Inquisitorius to handle. What _are_ you doing down here, Minister? This isn't your responsibility. The air field is still being cleared, and it's hazardous to be-"

The woman jabbed at his chest plate, her eyes full of fire. "I do as I see fit, Inquisitor! I am not so out of touch to rely solely on flimsi reports from you and Agent Kallus, especially when something like this happens right under my nose!"

The Inquisitor leered at her, and she merely leered back as he swatted away her finger. How unpleasant. "Do calm yourself. I mean no offense; I simply believe this sort of environment is not conducive to rational thinking.” Before the restless politician could protest, he added quickly, “Perhaps going to your office would better help you remember the details of the incident. I insist."

Palming her forehead, she relented. " _Fine._ Let’s get on it, then!" Practically stomping to the elevator, the Inquisitor followed her reluctant lead.

Kallus, meanwhile, gave the Inquisitor a look of concern, but he turned back to the Commandant and Taskmaster to continue their apparently completely engrossing and utterly important discussion. The human male was even sporting an amused smirk all the while. So that was it then? The Grand Inquisitor had to handle this ferocious mynock of a minister by himself?

The Inquisitor made a mental note to one day find the most remote and savage garrison in the universe, preferably one in some forsaken desert, and anonymously recommend the Agent to be reassigned. Then he'd see if the most favored son of ISB lasted more than a day before he died frothing in the mouth.

One day, Agent. One day.

* * *

 

The lift back up was perhaps the longest he had experienced, discounting perhaps the lift he took to seek audience with the Emperor. The Minister's arms were still crossed, and they didn't exchange a word until they approached her office.

She finally piped, "Really, is this necessary? I just don't see the point of it all." If the Empire only did what was strictly necessary, it wouldn't have an infinite amount of divisions of the military and government, would it? But he refrained from provoking her outright. Instead, he had other ideas to get her to talk. Slowing his steps to trail behind her, the Inquisitor took furtive glances to make sure nobody saw him stretching out a hand in the air. Constricting the Force on her, the tension on her shoulders multiplied; weariness and frustration seeped into her bones. The Agent did say simple aggression was not working. Subterfuge in the shadows was always more of the Inquisitor’s approach anyway.

The trick took effect immediately, for the Minister was noticeably more agitated as she sat down. "So, Inquisitor. It seems like you and I have plenty of leisure since you insist on lollygagging instead of letting me do something productive.”

“I assure you, this is a matter of _great import._ ” He allowed her no chance to react to his false civility, speaking on. "Did you notice anything suspicious the past few weeks?"

"No, I didn't notice anything suspicious since I had no reason to be suspicious of anything. I knew Unit Aurek. Their records had always been impressive." She briefly looked away with… disappointment? "It was comprised of reliable, hardworking cadets. Cadets with futures."

He cared little for the easily retrievable information about the boys, but he did care to note she spoke truthfully and with sympathy. It was obvious she held affection for the Academy, but one would be hard pressed to find a nurturing spirit in a politician. Reaching out just a bit more, the Inquisitor explored the emotional centers of her mind. A great helping of annoyance was the centerpiece, as was sympathy, as he suspected. To his amusement, there was also a dash of fear and suspicion mixed in. So the Minister still loathed him, did she?

"How did the system not catch Dev Morgan's lack of adequate credentials?"

She grimaced, in obvious distaste. "He had the very basics filled, and you should know that the Academy occasionally receives cadets from powerful families with their profiles redacted. We all had assumed it was on a need-to-know basis… And we only needed to now."

"So another failure of the administration. How surprising."

"Don't wear out your welcome so quickly, Inquisitor. If you're here only to hurl insults and complain then I suggest you find a cantina to do so!"

Ah yes, he could feel her anger burst right there, like a single bolt from a blaster. Red-hot, short-lived, and more sting than actual damage. If she weren't so grating, he would have considered it nearly endearing. Humans, especially humans, always assumed anger was a hard defense, a wall to raise against the accuser. But he was trained to know better. It was an opening, the exhaust port of an emotional mind. He lingered in her head, scoping for any points he missed. Behind her anger was a shadow, something that always followed her fickle flares, and he needed to know what it was. He needed to press on.

"I am not. It bears repeating: this a mark against the Academy and the government of Lothal. Minister, if a _child_ could infiltrate our ranks, what does that say about your authority? The Empire's authority?"

For once, she had no reply. Rubbing her temples and sighing, she finally spoke with a placating voice the Inquisitor knew she affected for appearances. "I am well aware of what yesterday's act of terrorism means. I am doing all I can to make sure it doesn't happen again, Inquisitor. All of us are!"

She couldn't possibly be backing down now. He could just feel her anger bubble in her mind, and if he could have one more opening, one more outburst… He mustered all his condescension into a single statement.

"Are you, now?"

Maketh's ochre eyes practically bulged out and the Inquisitor sensed her blood pressure spike. He suppressed a triumphant smile and merely waited for the human woman to barrage him with words. She would be so distracted by the sound of her own voice that she'd never notice that he was unearthing her weaknesses with her help.

But the verbal abuse never came. Just as she opened her mouth, a crimson drop suddenly fell from her nose and stained her blue coat. The sudden metallic smell of blood stunned the gaunt being, while the woman stared in shock at the red dot.

Not even a single second passed, but the drops kept coming and dark rings spotted her jacket front. The drops turned into a steady flow, with blood now gushing out. She covered her nose in vain as blue cloth washed into a copper mauve. She instinctively craned her neck back, at which the Inquisitor cringed. _What was she doing?_

In a moment of bewilderment, the Inquisitor reached over and grabbed the sides of her funneled hat and practically swung her head down. "Do you know nothing of your own anatomy?! The blood will trickle into your respiratory system, choking you or worse!"

Red beads flew out as she spat, “NOT HELPING!” But the Inquisitor already had a hand over her face as he frantically tried to reconnect with her mind, to urge the Force to stop this ridiculous, useless function of the human body, but the Minister’s mind was too chaotic for even the Grand Inquisitor to grasp it. Alarm, disgust, and squeamishness all repelled his influence.

How could humans be so fragile, so easy to burst with even the slightest provocation? He wasn’t even prying that deeply! Even with gloved hands, he could feel the foul warmth of the liquid life seeping out of the woman's flesh covered bony coffin that entombed her weak excuse of a brain. He freed a hand to practically smash the table interface, opening a comlink. "Send a medical droid to the Minister's office! _Now_!"

Right then, as if the Force conspired to make the entire situation even more preposterous and damning, the door slid open.

“Wh-“

It was Agent Kallus. Beholding the scene in front of him, he stood frozen, his finger hovering over his datapad mid-tap. He gaped at the Minister, the Minister gaped at the Inquisitor, and the Inquisitor gaped at the Agent.

There was a proper explanation for everything of course. But when the Inquisitor's hand was tightly wrapped over the Minister's mouth and nose, her blood practically dying his gloves red, and when she looked alarmed and struggling, it was very hard to not make certain assumptions.

Time seemed to have stopped. The Jedi hunter was half in mind to use a mind trick to ward away the Agent, but before the Agent could even begin to articulate his deserved confusion, distant and hectic beeping seemed to get closer and closer until the source of the noise shoved Kallus aside to enter the room. The medical droid!

"Move aside, move aside, medical droid coming through," loudly rang the droid.

The Inquisitor immediately let go of the bleeding politician. The droid summoned numerous metal appendages from its chrome red belly, one cleaning the blood, another placing a cloth over her nose, and with another nudging her to urge her to follow it. "The patient must follow me to the medical bay! Vital signs are normal, but I am detecting signs of hypertension!"

"I'm fi-" Maketh was nearly thrown off her chair by the clamorous droid, and before anyone could utter another word, she was pushed out the office and was led down the hall to the medbay.

The Inquisitor didn’t even bother to look at the Agent. The alien already knew what he was doing; the damn Agent was probably staring at the door stupidly, refusing to look at him although he probably wanted to. As if there were any way to clarify this nauseous situation!

Kallus finally dared to turn his head towards the Inquisitor and break the silence.

"… Do I even want to know?"

The Inquisitor peered at the one-woman carnage covering the table with a mix of awe and disgust.

“She was tired.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I honestly have no excuse for being so late with this update. I wrote, rewrote, and edited this to hell and back with no satisfaction in sight. I eventually got sick of it so now you'll have to suffer this version. Also, being mentally ill helps with schedule slips. Lord. Thank you all for your patience!

"… and Taskmaster Grint will see to it that security is increased during the parade. And of course, Count Valen Rudor will be piloting the prototype TIE. Should he be in dress uniform or flight uniform? There have also been concerns of flying the fighter over citizens—"

" _Commandant_ ," started Maketh, with weary patience. "Empire Day is weeks away. If you use your best judgment I'm sure the rest will follow." Commandant Aresko came to “check something quickly” but for the past half hour she had been on her feet in her own office as he prattled away about minute details. Even _her_ enthusiasm had its limits.

Incredibly, the Commandant scribbled something on his datapad as if she had said something of substance. “I just want to make sure that our minor hiccup with the stolen TIE is forgotten. This is a very important event after all.”

“Yes, right, I agree." Was he ever going to leave?! Maketh could barely contain her exhaustion but she mustered a final false jolt of ideation. “Ah, Commandant, you’ve reminded me… I think you should check the security measures of our facilities one more time! I’m sure Agent Kallus was thorough, but he doesn’t know Academy code as well as you do."

Cumberlayne looked touched, nodding vigorously as he stepped backwards to leave. “Why, of course! Splendid idea, Minister, I shall get to it immediately!”

Sheer willpower held the corners of her feigned smile until the Commandant was out of sight. The beleaguered woman sighed deeply as soon as the door shut. It was an impossibly long day; the twin moons finally made their appearance, their sister sun scurrying away into the horizon but not quick enough! There were still hours remaining before she could clock out.

She needed a break. It weren’t as if the Empire would stop functioning in her absence; the process of bringing civilization into Lothal was as fruitful as a meiloorun farm on the planet. In other words, expensive, cost inefficient, and bleeding impossible.

The Minister of Lothal and Universe Champion of Unarticulated Grievances walked right out, leaving her heavy hat on her desk.

* * *

 

The veranda was empty, as she expected. People only came when they took smoke breaks; the concentrated air filter was apparently not enough to accommodate the living chimneys in the building.

Maketh had no vice besides working itself. She had been offered drink and cigar whenever the occasion arose, but she never found them to be comforts. How could they when they clouded the mind, slowing the already sluggish and tired gears in the cranium? That was still one part of so-called genteel glamour she had yet to understand.

Her boots loudly pattered on the polished floor as she walked towards the railing. Crossing her arms, she put most of her weight atop the durasteel rods. Taking a deep breath, Maketh closed her eyes and absorbed the fresh air, the fading light, the sight of the city. A faint breeze freed her hat-pressed hair and gave it new life. Even though she was literally in the center of Capital City, Maketh swore she could hear the rustling of the distant goldenrod fields Lothal was so famous for.

This was what she needed, not drink or cigar. Even though her work was tiring and occasionally futile, she couldn't help but be proud of being part of the process of sharing Lothal with the rest of the galaxy. Even if that meant sharing it with people who didn't fully appreciate it. Like a certain alien…

Although the air was warm, Maketh shivered as she recalled that rattling experience with the Inquisitor. No mind-altering substance could be compared to his insidious psychological torture. It was like an abysmal cold seeping into her, and skin-crawling barely described the blackness that seemed to separate her skin and bones. And he wasn’t even trying! She could only imagine what an actual inquisition would entail, and she was glad that was decidedly above her pay grade.

Of course, because the Minister was just about to enjoy her break, it was only fair the universe propped the one sentient she didn’t want to see right in front of her.

The Inquisitor. He sat outside the edge of the railing facing the sun in a balcony section extending from the veranda. His unmistakable gaunt figure casted a deep and long shadow on the ground, and the only light that reflected off of him were the glints of the metal halo attached to his back. He was disturbingly still, like some decorative holo display. But the slightest heaving of his torso and the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders indicated he was indeed a living, breathing being. Even if Maketh had doubts that underneath the alien's gray shell laid an actual beating heart. Or several? Pau'an physiology still puzzled her.

Suddenly, nothing stirred, not even the wind. And the stillness made her itch. Did he know she was there? Would he know if she just turned around and left? And stars, why did he insist on sitting so close to the edge? There were easier ways to off oneself! The silence was oppressive enough that Maketh blurted out, "Are you meditating?”

There was no answer. It was more than obvious she was trespassing on some sort of wizardry or ritual, and she was not going to stick around to see the result of that! But just as she was about to flee, the alien murmured, "Your observational skills do you credit." He didn't bother to turn.

 _Oh Malachor_. He was in a mood, wasn't he? Maketh twitched at his sarcasm and nervously checked herself. Was he pulling some sort of trick again? Was she being mentally dissected like some sort of womp rat in a laboratory? The Inquisitor continued unprompted, "Did you come here simply to stare or are you here for a reason?"

He wasn't even facing her; how could he know? "I wasn't sta— No." She was not going to be goaded again! "No, I came here for respite. You know, something people have to do sometimes."

Returning sarcasm with more sarcasm was probably not included in the official _How to Survive Encounters with Violent Paramilitary Entities_ manual, but Maketh knew no other way to mask her discomfort. He wasn't even supposed to be here! She murmured, "I'm just surprised you're not in your Star Destroyer already, is all.”

Another pause. Ever so slowly, the Inquisitor emerged from his meditative stance. He turned to her languidly as a lothcat in noon, and Maketh was once again startled by his bright yellow eyes. They had to be augmented. No eyes could be naturally so piercing and creepy. He walked toward her and away from the perilous railing, his stance as prim and proper as any officer's. The alien never took his eyes off her before stopping at a reasonable distance. Frankly, even if he were on the opposite side of the planet, it wouldn’t have been enough.

"… Minister, perhaps we've gone off on the wrong foot."

Crossing her arms, Maketh retorted, "If you call an excessive nose bleed wrong footing Inquisitor, I wonder what you consider a bad first impression!"

"Evidently, we are beyond first impressions," said he, stony as ever.

"Hmph. But apparently not beyond correcting footwork."

His expression still didn't change, but the slightest strain of the lips indicated… exasperation? The woman observed it was the closest thing to emotion she had stirred from him discounting disgust or smugness. Was this progress?

Eyes narrowed, he quipped, "In case you've forgotten Minister, we are on the same side."

"I wonder about that,” huffed the Minister. “Prove it to me. I'm tired of these games, Inquisitor. Will you or will you not work with me honestly?"

"I have never been anything less than genuine."

Truly convincing. Maketh barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “If that's the case, let's start with something obvious. What exactly happened that day?"

"How you expect me to know your bodily functions is beyond me."

Again, cool smugness. Cheeky bastard! "That is not an answer. I might have been overwhelmed that day, but not to that extent! I felt you probing my mind from the moment I met you. Is it not true you were pulling Jedi mind tricks on me?"

"I am no Jedi."

Maketh was close to treading back inside her office to fume in peace, this impossible alien being so helpful, but to her surprise he continued, “But I did indeed inspect your mind. Rest assured you are no special case. It was a matter of protocol; not everyone is willing to tell me exactly what I need, so I simplify matters.”

What sort of reassurance was that?! “Very comforting. Precisely what-" Wildly gesticulating, she could hardly believe that she was asking. "How do you do that? With—with the Force?”

He was probably going to arrogantly reply with some pithy remark, rubbing it to her face that she was barred both institutionally and geographically from knowing such things. But he actually gave her question pause, muttering, "Yes, but it would take a lifetime to explain to you the intricate nature of the Force. Even after years of research I've only begun to unravel its workings."

It almost seemed like he took her seriously, but she wasn’t about to let him go so easily. "You're a capable and intelligent being. Explain it in an evening."

Much like a professor appraising a student, he appeared to be calculating just how much knowledge she deserved or was capable of handling. By any standard, she was in no position to make demands, but his reaction seemed nearly charitable, and Maketh couldn't waste her momentum. Besides, he wouldn't brazenly pick her apart in public, would he? … Not like were any witnesses around her, she noted with alarm.

"Then you'd best listen carefully."

What was more surprising here, that she asked him about the kriffing Force, the magic of the past, or that he was indeed going to answer her? The Inquisitor's stalwart stance was unwavering, and he seemed to enter a robotic trance as he recited, "The Force is a living phenomenon. It surrounds us, permeates us, and sustains us. You may not feel it, but the Force is not some fiction from an old, tired religion."

"Yes, yes, I've read the stories before. But how could you use the Force on me if I'm not even…?" Pointing at all of herself, she looked at the alien uneasily, and he blinked. Obviously if she had any super-sentient abilities, the Inquisitor would’ve been tormenting her for very different reasons.

"Despite my occasional doubts to the contrary, you are a thinking creature, are you not? One doesn't need to be sensitive to the Force to feel its effects; it is a constant of life. The very fact you are sentient means an unquantifiable amount of factors came together to form your present self. An intelligent bundle of proteins. A functioning organism in the galaxy. A statistical miracle. The Force can be like an ocean nourishing an atmosphere, or plasma refining durasteel. It is both a tool and a resource; it is the ultimate power of the universe."

What was he talking about? Is this what they taught in Inquisitor School or wherever they trained freaks? She stammered, “I… I don't follow."

"I don't expect you to,” he retorted, his tone ever icy. “Exactly why are you doing this, Minister? You know that this will bring about nothing productive."

Getting this Inquisitor to cooperate was like pulling teeth! His disdain was potent enough that the Minister was sure she would dissolve into bantha poodoo or whatever the Core Worlds thought was the exclusive produce of the Outer Rim.

Nonetheless, despite his foul attitude, it was an improvement from their first meeting and even their second bloody mess of an encounter. It would be unfair for her to demand honesty when she refused to relent as well. Maketh almost cringed at herself as she thought, _Honesty is the best policy_! Stars, it was as if she hadn’t learned anything from working in Corsucant with a pack of wolves for co-workers.

But she was do-gooder Tua, and perhaps even the Inquisitor could be killed with kindness, death by diplomacy. After clearing her throat she spoke lowly as if luring a dangerous animal into a cage. "Because I truly believe you can help us. If the Jedi are leading the rebels, then your mission and mine are the same. With the rebels gone, I will have done my duty to protect the interests of the Empire on Lothal and you… Well, you also get your Jedi.”

A far wind, perhaps the same that shook the yellow fields, returned and led a stray strand of hair into her open mouth. The Minister flicked it off before spluttering out all at once, “ _ButIneedtobeabletotrustyou_ , alright?"

Beat. Slowly, as if waking, he murmured, "An understanding, is it?"

Nodding, her voice pitched, "Yes, exactly! If understanding this sorcery will help in anyway, then I am eager to learn. If you're looking for something or someone on this planet, then I will allocate the appropriate resources.” The Minister was making offers that were dangerously open-ended, she knew that, but she was just so close! “Please Inquisitor. The Empire has enough enemies as it stands; let’s not become an obstacle ourselves.”

The metaphorical hand was extended now, and all the Inquisitor had to do was shake it. He continued to glare at her until he finally, wearily, relented. Eyes closed, his hand supporting his broad forehead, he grouched, "Very well. If you insist, I’ll endeavor in teaching you in an evening what many have struggled with for more than several hundred millennia.”

Ignoring the possible contempt in his voice, Maketh won. She successfully wrested out the alien's cooperation. While Maketh was getting used to his careful stares, she noticed he seemed to be peering not at her face but just above it. Was that part of his inspection of humans, as if looking for the lack of an elongated skull? He continued to speak and her attention returned to his words.

"As with any piece of knowledge, you will need a foundation. Listen carefully."

And so he regaled a brief history of the formation of the Jedi and eventually the Sith, of the original primitive beliefs of the Force and its many names and manifestations. To her surprise, he spoke with not a hint of condescension, as if he were truly giving a lecture in some institute in Coruscant. He had a wealth of knowledge and was nearly enthusiastic in sharing it, that was sure, but it was obvious he was giving her a particular, calculated version of the origins of the Force. He did not speak of the Jedi in length and neither did he speak of his own experience, which was understandable. The former was literally illegal while the latter… Well, they've certainly established it was a touchy subject. Overall, his lecture was cold and precise, and Maketh could only wonder if the Inquisitor would ever reveal the whole truth of anything.

After listening intently, the Minister finally spoke, "I'm impressed, Inquisitor. I didn't know you were both a soldier and a scholar."

For a moment, Maketh thought she saw his expression change, ever so slightly, a flicker of sensitivity. Did she just imagine it?

"The Temple records are well-preserved," he replied matter-of-factly. "Surely you've physically seen the location when you were in the Core?"

She was about to ask how he knew of her brief stint, but she remembered that her academic and vocational records were on her profile. Of course. "Yes, though that's really my only experience with the old religion. Knowing the history is fine and dandy, Inquisitor, but what I really wanted to know about was about you."

"… Pardon?"

"Er, not _you_ , specifically, of course, I think you've established that's off limits. I mean why you're here. The Jedi are one thing but to remain stationed in the Outer Rim for so long? Surely, there's a reason?"

The Inquisitor stared at her with such scrutiny that Maketh nearly preemptively placed a hand to her nose.

But he answered with a sober growl, "I feel it. The Force is on this planet, whether it was manifested naturally or bought by the Padawans. It's akin to a ripple on still water; I must follow the disturbance to find its source. That is the purpose of an Inquisitor."

She was ready to accept his explanation until suddenly, Maketh recalled a document she received shortly after her election. It was probably the document that required the most clearance among her mountains of data; it was mandated by none other than the Emperor himself. Very few knew of Lothal’s true role in the galaxy, but the Inquisitorius was probably included in that few. Could it be the Inquisitor came to investigate that business? Carefully, she asked, "Is that why you meditate? To search for the source?"

"… In a manner of speaking, but it's unnecessary for you to know."

Another dead-end. "Fair enough,” Maketh mumbled, but there were always more than one hyperlane to the capital. “Is there any way for me to feel these waves?"

"There is only one way for you to feel the Force in any capacity. I use it on you. But I doubt your curiosity runs deep enough that you’d volunteer for a pointless experiment.”

Of course not. Definitely not. But her blasted intuition, that primitive part of her stupid mind couldn’t help but see a connection where there clearly wasn’t. It made sense though, it made too much sense; the Emperor and Inquisitorius were just a step away from each other, so how could they not be related? Maybe this was a test, one of many hidden assessments to see if she was still on track.

An idea formed in her head, and it was madness, pure lunacy… But when would she ever have another chance? She swallowed to clear her dry throat, and croaked, "… Then do it. Use it, when I actually know what it is this time."

Shocked, the Inquisitor gawked at her, at her audacity. "You don't know what you're asking. You’re either mad or masochistic. Exactly how much blood did you lose?"

The Inquisitor seemed to wait for her to laugh and declare it all a deranged joke, and in all honesty, Maketh probably should have. What was said was said, though, and Maketh would push the envelope as far as it went. Keeping her prim frown, she replied, "Enough that you owe me this. I think your title of Grand Inquisitor should answer any question of your ability. I also don't think it's fair for me to demand honesty on your part when I haven't been honest myself. So... consider this an offer of trust.”

The alien said with both measures of distaste and wonder, “In all my years of service, you are the first to ask for it.” 

“Well,” Maketh started a bit too facetiously, “I suppose we’ll make history then.”

“You…” He was probably the most peeved he had ever been in a long time, as Maketh could actually see vexation distorting his usually frigid face. Then, the sick sort of curiosity that Maketh suspected he had in him all along finally took hold in him, and he spoke in his usual buttery smooth tone. “… You are truly a singular human, Minister. I will guarantee that I won’t create another reason to summon a medical droid. Stand still."

His gloved claw hovered over her face, and Maketh thought he'd actually clench it at any moment to crush her. He was certainly wasting no time. But what followed was nothing like she imagined. Something burst from his hand and it rushed right through her, and suddenly her mind was being squeezed out, tearing free from the fabric of her being. His metaphor was more than apt; she felt cold water, cold waves, filling her from boots up, the contents of her heart and mind being carried up by roaring upward currents. Words spilled out of her mouth that used her voice but not her will.

The Inquisitor turned his hand slightly, as if dialing a knob. "Your name."

The alien’s polished voice could be described as anything but shrill, yet his voice physically pained her. It felt like hundreds of needles dug into her brain demanding an answer, which she gave. "Ma-Maketh Tua." It was her voice, to be sure, but who was talking in her place? How could she be so handedly and easily manipulated?

"What is your allegiance?"

"I serve the Empire as the Minister of Lothal." This, anyone could know. She was grateful her mind revealed no more.

"You're being terse. Good, you're resistant.” A chilling, wicked smile broke his visage. His hand twitched to an angle, seemingly amplifying his voice. “But I can do better—Tell me, what was it like living in the gutters of the galaxy? Your parents were farmers, weren't they?"

Oh, how she wanted to box that mouth off his pale face! "Lothal was a detriment to my education and career, and the fact I was born here is probably why I'm not in Coruscant right now."

"Surely you also blame Governor Pryce to a degree. Her frequent absence requires you to do so much more work, and for what? The distant hope of a promotion? She’d have to be gone for you to take her place, anyway. Quite a position you’re in."

"Governor Pryce—" _Is a lovely woman! A joy to work with! And the extra work is nothing!_ "—thinks she had that dinner with the Grand Moff because she's so important. But she's a pretentious hag who just wants to be away from Lothal as often as possible while I do all the work!" Maketh felt hot, her flushed face betraying her embarrassment, but the cold waves gripped her and did not let go.

"And Agent Kallus, our favorite ISB interloper? What use is your title when Command can simply order away your power by placing him into the equation? It must be frustrating, to know that the Empire’s trust has been placed in other hands."

Panic spread through Maketh and her voice grew hoarse, but her body was held in a vice grip that continued to squeeze out the answers. And—The Empire’s trust? Did the Inquisitor know of the planet’s directive or not?! "He—He picks up the slack but his all-responsible, all-knowing act is as grating as his stupid sideburns. He’s not as boorish as the other officers, but he's as brutish as a foot soldier.”

"If that's what you think of him, I can hardly imagine what you think of me."

At that, the heat of her mind and the cold of the waves poured out together. "You are a beastly, meddling alien who is too self-satisfied to function. If you were as competent as rumor made you out to be, the Jedi rebels would've been caught already and burning in Malachor!”

The Inquisitor grinned with satisfaction, as if he anticipated her response. "And what do you think of yourself?"

"I…" Maketh tried biting her tongue, kicking her feet, and making fists with her hands to distract herself. A stone in Maketh's heart rattled and threatened to tear out through her throat. This was different from the other answers for it came deeper within; it was something impossible to articulate with the conscious mind and therefore impossible to anticipate.

" _I—!_ " The strain of it all, between his pull and her resistance, made her sweat and her golden hair dampened. How could the Inquisitor take information even she didn't know of? No, she refused to bend over his powers just like that!

Just as she though she'd burst from the pressure, he let go. Her knees gave in, and Maketh could barely prop herself up with her hands on the floor. Her coughs broke her rasped breath into beats.

The Inquisitor said, with voice back to normal volume, "I've heard worse by my betters. Give yourself more credit. I'm impressed by your tenacity; most would've given me their life story on a plate by now. Does this satisfy your curiosity?"

"That…” Maketh’s voice quivered, and she coughed out, “That was unnatural."

"As I've told you, you are not meant to feel the Force. Come, stand."

He easily picked her up by her arms, his thin limbs belying his strength. While she was finally on her feet, Maketh still couldn’t lift her head. And she didn’t need to, as she felt the alien’s gloved hand lift her chin, and it was then she realized she was very, very close to him. She could see the texture on his gray skin, so finely lined, his nose, which looked like someone stuck a chiseled rock on his face, and his eyes—which never departed from staring just above her own.

“Are you feeling faint? Most sentients tend to drop around this stage,” he said so casually as if he were oblivious to the lack of distance between them.

That certainly gave Maketh a start. “N-No! I’m alright, just—just give me a moment, here…!” She immediately stepped away, and it was only then the Inquisitor let go of her arm. It was as if he branded her, that one spot so warm to how cold the rest of her body was. What in the Force? What was happening to her? She noticed that the Inquisitor’s gaze lingered on her for just a second too long, making her feel even worse! “W-what are you looking at…?!” Maketh demanded, perhaps more high-strung than proper.

“… Human curiosity in its stupidest form,” he replied with a roll of the eyes. But he kept staring at something!

“ _Honesty_ , Inquisitor," she reminded him sternly. After what she had through, she was going to get her credit’s worth!

She must’ve been on to something, for the stupid alien opened his stupid mouth to say something before stopping himself, probably stopping a stupid lie or a stupid quip. When he opened it again, he finally answered, “It's just that seeing you without your hat is… quaint. Distracting, almost.” Chuckling to himself, he added, “Although I shouldn’t be surprised you have hair, I suppose.”

Lightning struck her, it must have. That was worse than an insult which she fully expected, but no, it was an actual remark on her appearance, and what on this good planet would an alien know about such a thing, about propriety and investiture, oh blast, what?! Her face was burning, and she knew it. Was it embarrassment? Was it anger? Was it the sudden knowledge that he noticed such a minor thing and was not, in fact, a soulless robotic butcher who took no notice of the world around him?

She took back what she thought earlier; the sun was welcome to stay longer if it meant casting a light that hid just how bright her face became.

"Yes, well, I have a spherical skull and a head full of hair like any human, quite an astute observation, Inquisitor, very insightful, and I'll be going now.” Maketh turned around on the spot and began to walk quickly ( _oh, faster!_ ) away.

But then he had to call out, “Minister, wait!”

She stopped, when she really, really shouldn’t have. There was no reason, no sensible motive for her to stop. What could the Inquisitor possibly have to add to this ridiculous series of events! But she did, and she looked over her shoulder.

And while Maketh looked back just enough to see with her peripheral vision, what she saw burned into her mind. The Inquisitor, at his most honest, his most earnest, spoke simply, “Know that I will honor our understanding.”

Maketh only had the strength to nod in response before darting back to her office, being hot, cold, and burning, freezing, all at once.


End file.
